You want me to watch your child?

It seemed to hit me hard this weekend when I rode my beach cruiser hybrid home from dinner with a fellow deployed family that LIFE really does continue whether the husbands/boyfriends are home or not. It had me thinking - there are babies conceived juuuuust before deployment and the countdown begins immediately of, "Will you be home or will the fellow ladies act on your behalf?"

I was a great fill-in husband this weekend with a short trek to Costco for some dinner staples. Oh, and there may have been some new pillows, a blanket, and crafting table also throw on the 'aircraft carrier' cart.

And with the latest and greatest in recent deployment schedules, worldly happenings, and the recent 30%-off wine sale at Ralph's....life may include something so much more than me than I expected out of this deployment.

Sunday night I rode my bike to a fellow family's house that's now within "bike-a-bility" since the great, unexpected relocation of 2013. I'm now living a stone's throw from the beach (literally like 50 yards); which is within 1.5 miles from the other "Ashley" (<also my real name). So onto my bike I strolled. My backpack teamed of a bottle of wine, Mexican rice fixings, and the great company of another red wine fan (who's European with her pregnancy and does enjoy red wine with dinner). And the Jack Johnson streaming from Pandora was the soothing soundtrack to my peddling.

Then, after the 2-year-old daughter hit the hay, the topic turned to the impending due date of Baby #2 for this family. Who will win? The boat into dock or the baby into arms?? Who can be called on? Who lives closest? Who can handle the pets? Who can handle the 2-year-old?

You're ::looking:: at her.

It's me. So that night we made a legit plan. I'm the first call-to-action should Baby #2 announce that, "The thundercats are a-go" and it's past 5:45pm. I'm a 4-minute car ride away (when you count the walk to the car, garage door, and stop signs). I'm a rational person with basic life decisions. I'm a great companion and snuggle bunny to a little daughter that loooooves Nick Junior and snuggling on the coach with a blanket. I'll make snacks and meals for the little one and ensure she's in bed on time. I will hold down the fort while another wife handles the driving to the hospital and doula-like support until the actual doula arrives.

Holy shit...I'm scared and excited all it one.

The mom-to-be-for-the-second-time is excited for the arrival since she'll have a clue onceithappens whether she's on her own or not. The boat is...somewhere. And babies abide by their own plan. So the most that can be done is assume the location of a certain USS 'Staches Be Growin' and to focus on your impending plan: childbirth sans husband. And then prep the nurses/family to send the fastest Red Cross message of, "Baby girl born, _#, _oz, happy as can be (when considering the circumstances)."

So that night I began the realization that my phone will be turned up to ring the loudest possible.